


that's all you had to say (one more thing–)

by Sanna_Black_Slytherin



Series: (don't) call me son [5]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Acephobia, Alexander Hamilton is George Washington's Biological Son, Alternate Universe - John Laurens Lives, American Politics, Angst with a Happy Ending, Asexual James Madison, Background period-typical sexism, Bisexual Alexander Hamilton, Burr is Awkward, Canon Era, Dysfunctional Family, F/F, Frances is Done with allosexuals, Gay John Laurens, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Lesbian Angelica Hamilton, Lesbian Theodosia Burr Alston, Multi, Period-Typical Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 19:23:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10225346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanna_Black_Slytherin/pseuds/Sanna_Black_Slytherin
Summary: "Angelica and Theodosia are…” Burr paused, searching for a suitable way to phrase this. Then again, Hamilton has never been one for subtlety. Even while writing under a pseudonym, his trademark writing style, and the sheerlengthof his essays, gave him away. “I have caught them kissing,” he finally said, his face flushing at the reminder.or, Burr walks in on Theodosia and Angelica.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Worldweaver3791](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Worldweaver3791/gifts).



> The year is 1799, which means that Theodosia is seventeen and Angelica is fifteen. This technically qualifies as underage by our standards, but the 18th century had [a different way of viewing age](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Age_of_consent#Traditional_attitudes). Long story short, the American colonies followed the English tradition, and the law was more of a guide. For example, Mary Hathaway was only 9 when she was married to William Williams. The first French Constitution of 1791 established the minimum age at 11 years. Portugal, Spain, Denmark and the Swiss cantons initially set the minimum age at 10–12 years.
> 
> In Christian societies, sex outside marriage was forbidden. Older children were often punished themselves for being complicit in sexual interaction with an adult. Until the late 18th century, there was little understanding of childhood as a concept, and children were seen as "little adults". From the late 18th century, and especially in the 19th century, attitudes started to change.
> 
> By which I want to say that, in the eyes of 18th century America, Angelica and Theodosia were technically adults.

If Hamilton had to be honest – which he strived to be at all times, even at a great personal cost to himself – he was more than a little disappointed in Washington. It was nothing Washington had said or done, no – the man was the picture of a caring father, if one added the extra layers of secrecy that were imperative in their situation – but rather something he had _not_ done. He had not, hitherto, challenged Hamilton mentally as Hamilton had hoped he would. His mother was bright, there was no denying that, but she was the cunning kind, the kind that focused on survival and had no time for any frivolities like mental exercises. Hamilton did not blame her – she did what she had to. He had assumed that, since his mother wasn't a genius like him, his father had to be.

He was not quite able to suppress a flash of disappointment when the identity of his father became known to him, overshadowed though it was by confusion and, most of all, fury.

The feelings never quite disappeared, though Hamilton eventually how to handle it.

* * *

“Theo?” Burr called out, opening the front door without bothering to knock. He has had habit of knocking before, back when Hamilton and he had been working as co-councils on numerous occasions, but had gradually lost it when he became a sufficiently frequent visitor of the Hamiltons that he had been presented with his own key and told to “make himself at home” by a disgruntled-looking Mrs Schuyler Hamilton ( _“Eliza, if you will,” she always said with a smile_ ).

Originally, Burr did not intend to make use of said key other than in cases of extreme urgency, but after the death of his wife four years past, he had, to his own astonishment, found the picturesque life at the Hamilton residence to be surprisingly wholesome. From what he had been able to see, he could see that his daughter could likewise appreciate the distraction that was their – somewhat reluctant, in Burr's case – extended family.

More often than not, she could be found socializing with the Hamilton brood, particularly with Angelica, Hamilton's eldest daughter and Theodosia's closest friend. The two girls had taken to spending hours in each other's company, conversing about books they had recently read or people they had talked to since their last meeting.

Truly, Burr marveled at the strength of their relationship – Theo seemed to open up to Angie in a way that she hasn't to anyone since her mother's death, or even prior to that. This trust, too, went both ways, Burr was glad to note. He was infinitely grateful for the fact that his daughter had a friend in whom she could confide her feelings about her mother's untimely demise, as Theo had seemed to close off from her father after her mother's death. She had not shut him out as much as simply stopped sharing every moment of her life with him. As bereft as it left Burr feeling, he understood the need for independence, especially at Theo's age, a need he was certain was only amplified by the fact that Theo's sex was considered inferior in the eyes of the many, thus bringing about a need to prove herself to those closest to her.

There was no response from Theo, which troubled Burr because he knew that Theo knew how much he cared for and worried about her, his only daughter, and how agitated he grew when he was uncertain as to her safety. This was also part of the reason he had prohibited any courtships until Theo finished her education, the other part being that, while he fully believed in her right to make her own choices in life, he still remembered how own lack of care at that age. No adolescent can fully understand the consequences of their actions, consequences that could potentially haunt them for the rest of their earthly existence. Burr didn't wish misery upon his daughter.

Thankfully, Theo showed no inclination towards premature courtships thus far, agreeing with her father that she still needed to mature psychologically before making any momentous decisions, citing her mother's first marriage at seventeen as an example.

Burr smiled internally at the reminder. He was glad that his daughter had come to this decision on her own.

He decided to make his rounds around the house, hoping that a systematic search would yield Theo's location. He began with the sitting room, the room where Theo could most likely be presumed to be found. Alas, little luck. It wasn't until he got tto the kitchen that he found his daughter, although, in retrospect, he wished that he hadn't.

Upon entering the kitchen, he was greeted with the sight of Theodosia pushing Angelica against a wall, their lips locked in a fervent kiss. One of Theodosia's hands was clutching the hems of Angie's dress, the other hand holding the front of Angie's dress in a way that suggested familiarity between the two that Burr was definitely not prepared to consider quite yet. Angelia's hands were thrown around Theodosia's neck in an attempt to pull her closer.

The two girls remained oblivious to his presence thus far. He cleared his throat, watching as the two jumped apart, their postures going from relaxed to tense in mere seconds. They turned to face Burr, fear evident in both pairs of eyes.

Theodosia stepped forward. “Father– I can explain–“ she began speaking. Her cheeks were flushed, although Burr could not determine whether the colour stemmed from the shame of being caught, or from their previous activity. He sincerely hoped for the former, the latter being too shocking to contemplate yet. He deliberately forced his mind to focus on anything but the scene he had just borne witness to, the way his daughter had dug her hands into the lapels of Angelica's dress–

Burr raised a hand to stall both his thoughts and his daughter's words. “I have no desire to hear any explanations,” he said, voice hard. “You know fully well – both of you,” he addressed Angelica, “that the sort of activity you were engaging in isn't merely unlawful, it is wrong in the eyes of God.”

“Depraved, disgraceful, deplorable,” Angelica listed, as though practicing the words she had learned from her most recent novel, and dear Lord, was this what they did when he had thought they were discussing books? How long has this been going on? Does Hamilton know? Does _Eliza–_?

“Is it really, though?” Theodosia challenged in an acerbic undertone. Her stances acquired a defensive edge as she positioned herself in front of Angelica – in front of her _lover_ , Burr realized with a start, feeling his stomach churn unpleasantly. He was certain that Theodosia had heard it as well.

“What do you mean?”

“You have always taught me that we are God's children, and that God loves all of His children. But if He did, He would not have given us such unnatural urges and ordered us not to act on them, even when they feel so _right_ ,” Theodosia spoke with a passion in her voice he had seldom had the fortune to hear. “The conclusions that I have been able to draw are that God either does not love all of His children and punishes certain individuals regardless of their faith and actions, a notion so preposterous that I have decided to discard it, or God does not think that relationship between individuals of the same sex are to be condemned – let alone be killed for. If we claim that these urges we have been given by God Himself are unnatural,” Theodosia reasoned, “then we are rejecting God and His gift of life that He gives to each of us.”

“You are simply imagining things,” Burr tried to calm her down. “You are confused. This will pass.”

Predictably, it did not work. “Father,” Theodosia retorted, “I have lived for seventeen years now. At my age, you were courting several young women already, and had graduated from Princeton a year previous. You are not the most suitable person to be making the age argument,” she took a breath. “I have never felt anything towards a male even remotely similar to the feelings that I have for Angie. I am not certain I ever will, or that I even can. There are stories of people only being attracted to their own sex, are there not?” she reminded him. “There are actual living, breathing, working people who live their lives like that.”

“Those are not the kinds of people you should strive to be, Theodosia,” Burr admonished.

The usage of her full name started her more than anything else thus far, but it did not deter her for long. “And why not? They seem to be good individuals, from the little I have seen.”

“They are breaking the laws set forth in the Book of Leviticus,” Burr reminded her.

Theodosia smiled, but it was Angelica who answered, in a quiet but confident voice. “The Book of Leviticus were laws that we needed to follow in order to be righteous. That was before the Holy Son's descent from Heaven. His express purpose was to sacrifice himself on the cross so that our sins may be forgiven. This, if I am not mistaken, included the original sin. This act was supposed to free humanity from the former set of laws – like circumcision at birth – allowing us to enter Heaven by believing in Jesus Christ. No Christian follows any other rule set forth in the Book of Leviticus, except this one. Why is that?” she ended on a rhetorical note.

“Because they recognize that it is wrong,” Burr answered mechanically.

Angelica shook her head. “No, because it is their way of controlling what is deemed socially acceptable,” she murmured, finally taking a step forward so that she now stood alongside Theodosia, who smiled broadly, her love for Angelica as evident as Hamilton's trademark writing style of filling up to fifty pages with meticulous handwriting in a single day. Burr was suddenly no longer sure that this was a simple case of mistaken infatuation, because he _recognized_ the look. It was the same look he used to give his Theodosia, back when they were courting and every day since.

Whatever Burr might have answered was cut short by a commotion in the sitting room. “Angelica?” a decidedly feminine voice called out. “Theodosia? Where are you?”

“In the kitchen,” Theodosia replied without a moment's hesitation.

“There is something I need to tell you. You will not believe the day I have had so—” Frances trailed off as she came into view. Her eyes flitted between her friends and Burr. “Am I interrupting anything?” she asked carefully. “I do not wish to be the cause of an aborted discussion, especially if the topic is anything of import. I am available at a later time.”

“No, I believe that we are finished for now,” Theodosia spoke. Although her stance did not change, Burr could discern the exact moment when she became distanced, closing the door to her heart and securing it against any and all attempts on Burr's part to pry them open.

Burr wanted to point out that the discussion was _by no means_ over, but one look at Theodosia and Angelica told him that his attempts would be met with a great deal of resistance. He settled for nodding instead, deciding to bide his time. He would bring this matter up with Hamilton at his earliest convenience. If both of them spoke with their daughters, surely they could make them see sense.

Theoretically, it was within Burr's power to prohibit Theodosia from visiting the Hamiltons, but he had never been that kind of a person; he had always let Theodosia make her own decisions inasmuch as it didn't threaten her life or well-being, and while this might qualify as either, Theodosia could easily trick him and sneak off to Angelica behind his back.

No, it was better that Theodosia came to this realization on her own.

Frances' eyes continued to flit between them, detecting the almost tangible tension in the room. A smirk spread on her face, as if she knew exactly what had transpired prior to her entrance. Burr decidedly did not like it. “How may we be of use, Miss Laurens?” he asked pointedly in a practiced tone he had used on Hamilton more times than he would care to count.

The expression on Frances’ face did not change. “I had merely wanted to regale Angie and Theo with a story. However, if you wish to hear it as well, you are welcome to remain, sir,” she trailed off suggestively.

Burr made the safe decision, which was to flee. As he closed the door behind him, he could not help but press his ear to the door in an admittedly juvenile attempt at eavesdropping, curious despite himself. He internally cursed Hamilton for having tainted him with his immaturity. He heard some shuffling, then quiet voices. He strained to distinguish the words.

“That seemed mightily odd.”

“Thank you, Frances. You have saved us,” Burr could not see her, but he could virtually imagine Theodosia's smile.

“Would either of you care to elaborate what I had walked in on? This hardly seemed like the Spanish Inquisition,” Frances snorted. “It more closely resembled a strange stand-off at a duel neither party actually desires.”

“Father has found out,” Theodosia said in so quiet a voice that Aaron almost did not hear it. “He caught us.”

Frances snorted in a most undignified way. “You never heed my words when I tell you that you shouldn't engage in such activities in public.”

“It is our _kitchen_ ,” Angelica reiterated. “It is not a public space.”

“It is when anyone but the people who already know about you have access to it,” Frances declared.

Theodosia let out a deep breath. “You aren't wrong. Still, I wish that I did not have to hide any part of who I am from him. He is my father, and he has always supported me in all my endeavours. I know that my father is more liberal than most–“ At that, Angelica scoffed. “I did say 'than most', did I not?” Theodosia reminded her pointedly. She sighed again. “It it not a pleasant feeling to need to hide this from him.”

Burr's heart broke, just a little, at her words. He did not wish to be the cause of such pain as was evident in Theodosia's voice. He had never wished to hurt his little girl, the light in his life, the reason he arose from his bed most mornings. He simply wished that she, too, could see that this could not be further away from good for her. Even if she was right about the Lord's attitude towards such matters, society, even at its most open-minded, did not permit certain things. This was one of them.

He took a step back, reminding himself that he was an adult. It had nothing to do with the fear that consumed him about hearing Theodosia's subsequent words and what they might reveal. Nothing at all.

He wandered about the house aimlessly for a good few minutes, not quite knowing what to do with himself but feeling strangely restless and unable to sit still.

Burr's attention was diverted when the front door was opened and he heard light footsteps enter the house. He hurried towards them, and came upon the sight of Eliza Schuyler Hamilton in all her glory, bidding farewell to one of her friends. He waited with patience, as was his wont, for Eliza to notice and address him.

“Aaron?” Eliza asked in surprise, warmth evident in her voice. “What a surprise. To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?”

Burr hesitated. “I find myself in need of speaking to your husband. It is of a… personal nature,” he phrased delicately, hoping against hope that Eliza would not require him to elaborate.

For once, Lady Fortuna was on his side. “He has not yet returned from the Senate,” she said in a voice that implied that this has been the subject of numerous discussions between the two.

“That is not a problem,” Burr assured Eliza. “I do not have any other urgent business that needs tending to.”

Eliza smiled. “In that case, you must stay for dinner,” she said, her voice brokering no argument.

“I would not dream of refusing, milady.”

“ _Eliza,_ Aaron _._ Call me Eliza.”

* * *

Laurens arrived some time later. He exchanged a few pleasantries with Eliza, but scowled when he spotted Burr.

That was another oddity that Burr had come to accept as part of the Hamilton strangeness: while Hamilton accepted Burr readily, and while Eliza often issued invitations for gossip over a cup of tea, Laurens – whose permanent dwelling at the Hamiltons' house has been left unexplained other than a vague 'he is an old friend, you understand' – had been outright hostile towards Burr ever since the end of the war, for no reason Burr could discern. When questioned by Hamilton, Laurens denied any such attitude, but it was apparent to everyone who had the misfortune of speaking to Burr and Laurens simultaneously.

“To what do we owe the questionable pleasure of your company, Senator?” Laurens asked drily, unwittingly echoing Eliza's earlier words, in a decidedly different tone.

“Now, none of that, John,” Eliza reprimanded, “Aaron will be dining with us this evening, after which he and Alexander have some business that needs tending to.”

Laurens' face remained the same, but he did not argue further, recognizing the look on Eliza's face for what it was and deciding that some fights were simply futile.

Theodosia, Angelica, and Frances must have moved from the kitchen at some point when Burr was not paying attention, because when Eliza began ordering the servants around, they were nowhere to be found. In some ways, it was for the better – Burr did not know how he would react upon seeing the two together while knowing what he now knew – but in other ways, it pained him that they had to resort to such obvious evasion techniques.

Frances did make an appearance later in the afternoon, sans the two other girls. She smirked at Burr, as though she could read his mind and knew exactly what kind of thoughts had taken up residence there, but did not confront him. Instead, she talked briefly with her father and with Eliza, the latter conversation distinctly warmer than the former, then withdrew the backyard, a book and a quill in her hand. In some aspects, Frances resembled Hamilton much more than she did Laurens, and if her paternity had not been beyond any doubt, Burr would have questioned her relation with the vice president.

Burr spent the time idly talking with Eliza, exchanging news and stories, then, when she forsook the conversation in favour of supervising the preparation of the dinner, he sat down on the couch in the sitting room with nothing but his thoughts to entertain him. He mulled over his conversation with Theodosia and Angelica, analyzing their words and emotions in hopes of gaining further insight into the situation.

He did not like the conclusions his mind had drawn, and was all the more anxious to talk to the patriarch of the Hamilton family.

Hamilton returned later than usual, having been held up in a meeting with the two senators from Pennsylvania. Inordinately dedicated to his job, Hamilton was working even when the Senate was in recess. Eliza scowled in disapproval, the expression on her face indicating that she has had this argument far too many times to count, then herded Hamilton to the lavatory to clean himself before dinner, then called the children down to dinner while the kitchen staff brought out the food.

Burr did not like to make it a habit of dining with the Hamiltons, if for no other reason than the sheer number of people at the table. While he preferred a small and intimate family, Hamilton and Eliza had chosen the other approach. In addition to Hamilton's six children, with a seventh on the way, there was also Laurens and his daughter, as well as Theodosia, who frequented their house, if not for the reasons Burr had imagined.

He chanced a look at Theodosia Now that he knew what to look for, all the signs were there: the way Theodosia’s lips were quirked up in a most peculiar smile as she looked at Angelica; Angelica interlocking her fingers with Theodosia as they spoke in hushed voices; Theodosia's startling ease with which she acted around Angelica.

The dinner was a cordial affair, with Hamilton gushing over Burr's presence and talking ceaselessly about the two senators with whom he had met, although the tension between himself and Theodosia was evident. During a lull in the conversation, Hamilton leaned down to whisper something into his wife's ear, to which she shook her head, whispering a soft reply. Hamilton blinked, and turned to look at Burr with a new spark in his eyes. He picked up the discussion again, this time in an obvious effort to reduce the tension around the table.

Once the staff began clearing out the dishes, Hamilton and Burr retired to Hamilton's study. Hamilton shut the door behind him, clearly sensing that the topic was a sensitive one. “What is this urgent business of yours, Aaron Burr, sir?” he grinned lopsidedly at the rhyme.

Burr sighed at Hamilton's juvenility. “It concerns our daughters,” he said succinctly.

Hamilton rolled his eyes. “You could not be any _more_ vague, could you? That is not a challenge,” he hastened to add, as if Burr would take everything Hamilton says as a personal challenge. That was more Hamilton's forte, anyway. “I assume that you mean Angelica?”

“Yes,” Burr confirmed. “She and Theodosia are…” he paused, searching for a suitable way to phrase this. Then again, Hamilton has never been one for subtlety. Even while writing under a pseudonym, his trademark writing style, and the sheer _length_ of his essays, gave him away. “I have caught them kissing,” he finally said, his face flushing at the reminder.

Hamilton frowned. “And this comes as a surprise because…?” he trailed off in confusion.

Burr stared, astonished at what he was hearing. “You _knew?!_ ” he exclaimed in outrage. “You _knew_ , and you never uttered a word?!”

Hamilton busied himself with organizing his papers on his desk. “It was not my secret to tell.”

“It was my secret to know,” Burr hissed. “Theodosia is my daughter – I will not have her engaging in that sort of activity. It is wrong, in law as well as morally, and you _know_ it. You are a religious man, Hamilton; you know what God said about intimate relations between two individuals of the same sex.”

“Is this about the Book of Leviticus?” Hamilton arched an eyebrow. “Because I feel like this might be about the Book of Leviticus.”

“Like father, like daughter,” Burr muttered under his breath, too low for Hamilton to distinguish the words.

In three quick strides, Hamilton was at the door. He held up a hand. “Please wait here, Burr. I will return shortly.”

During Hamilton's absence, Burr amused himself with studying the man's office – his personal work space was as messy as the man it belonged to.

As promised, Hamilton returned not two minutes later, his wife and best friend in tow. Laurens glowered at Burr, while Eliza gave him a look of understanding and of pity. Burr did not know which he loathed more.

“Please, sit,” Hamilton gestured at the couch – which had probably been put there by Eliza in an attempt to make her husband sleep more often. If anything, Burr would gamble that Hamilton used it more often than his own bed. Once everyone had taken a seat, he continued, “Before we can proceed with this discussion, I feel that there is something that you need to know,” he sneaked a look at Laurens, who returned it. They seemed to communicate non-verbally, though Burr was left trying, and failing, to comprehend what had been said. One of Hamilton's hands clasped Laurens', while interlocking his other hand with Eliza's. Hamilton took a deep breath, as though gathering courage, before he spoke bluntly, “John and I are in a relationship.”

Burr blinked. If he had to make a list of what he had expected to hear, this would not have featured on it. “I beg your pardon?” he leaned back in his chair, hoping against hope that Hamilton would rescind his words, because if he meant what he just said– if Burr considered the implications–

“John and I are in a physical relationship,” Hamilton repeated. “A sexual one, if you permit me for being crude.” At that, Eliza scoffed lightly, at a reference to something Burr had not been privy to, nor was he familiar with. “I love my wife very much – more than almost anything in this world,” he squeezed Eliza's hand, “but the love I have for her is not diminished by my love for John,” he explained with an expectant look.

Not for the first time since meeting Hamilton, Burr was flailing about what to say. “I– do not understand,” he admitted. “Why would you commit sodomy – why would either of you choose to brand yourselves sodomites, _sinners_ , in the eyes of God – when the both of you have families, _loving_ families?” he asked, desperate to understand.

Laurens snorted. “Why would we betray our wedding vows, do you mean? For my part, I did not marry for love. I had married out of duty, after a single night with a British lady of high standing left her with child. Understand that I did not love her, and only shared her bed out of hope that it would cure my attraction towards my own gender. When I realized that it was not the case, it was already too late, and Miss Manning was expecting. I had married her to spare our child the harsh experiences that come of being born out of wedlock; I then fled to the colonies, where I met Alexander.”

“Alexander had approached me in the early stages of our courtship and revealed their relationship,” Eliza picked up once Laurens had finished. “He felt that it would be unfair to me, his bride-to-be, to share a life with a man whose 'proclivities tend to be quite outside of what is considered the norm',” she quoted with a smile. “He assured me that his love for me was no less genuine for his love for John. We eventually came to a satisfying arrangement that would involve all three of us. No single person can fulfill another person's every need, and I could not deny Alexander the happiness that he could find with John but not with myself.”

“This was, of course, after Eliza proposed to me,” Hamilton finished.

Burr could not muster the energy to be surprised at that. Traditionally, it was the man who proposed, but since when have the Hamiltons ever been conventional?

“This is _wrong_ ,” he said at length.

“Is it?” Eliza retorted. “All three of us are exactly where we want to be, our relationship is entirely consensual, and – despite Alexander's best efforts to the contrary – we are excellent at communicating with each other. That is more than most conventional couples have been able to achieve. As for the aspect of both Alexander and John being men…” She sighed. “You are a religious person, Aaron, as am I – as are we all. Yet here is where our opinions diverge: while you believe that the Bible should be accepted verbatim, I believe that there is room for interpretation. You cannot, in all honesty, tell me that you believe that there was actually a talking snake,” she said pointedly.

“How does that pertain–“

“It is believed that the Bible was written down centuries after Christ's death, by men as mortal and as fallible as you and I. Is it, then, not possible that some of men's desires and goals have translated into the Bible, whether intentionally or not? If God loves all His children equally, why does he want a freed man to be spiked through his ear, should he choose to remain in servitude? I have long thought about this, and it makes little sense, unless one accounts for the fact that the Bible was influenced by _human_ wishes and needs, such as the needs of a slave owner. Our job, as the faithful, is to distinguish those human needs from the commandments given by God Himself.”

Burr bit his lip. He had clearly underestimated Eliza, hitherto believing that, while not stupid, she was not smart. He had done her a disservice in comparing her with her husband, since very few people could be deemed smart if juxtaposed with Alexander Hamilton. “What makes you believe that Leviticus 18:22 and 20:13 are a result of man's whims and not God's?” he asked, curious despite himself.

Eliza smiled, pleased that he was actually thinking about this rather than dismissing it as nonsense. She leaned forward. “For one thing, I cannot believe that we, who are created in God's image, would be created by God with desires He did not want us to act on. But most importantly, Aaron, consider how our society functions. We, as a culture, are reliant on marriage and procreation to further our lines, since this is the only way to secure a safety net for our youngest and oldest. We do not have any sort of universal help from any organization – it is every man and woman for themselves. In a society where children and elders rely on their parents or children respectively to work and earn enough money to support them, what do you think happens to people who prefer relationships where there will be no offspring? They will be unable to support themselves as elders, which makes this kind of relationships undesirable. This,” she paused to punctuate her words by knocking her fingers against the fabric of the couch, “is why Leviticus 18:22 and 20:13 are based on man's need to prevent our culture from crumbling. God did not determine that man could not sleep with man; _man_ was,” she finished her verbal onslaught and settled back against her husband's side. Hamilton pecked her lightly on the lips.

“Now,” Hamilton took up the conversation, “you had initially asked about Theo and Angie. For specifics about their relationship, you will have to ask them, and I am sure that, once you prove that you do not hate them for it, they will be more than happy to talk to you about it.”

Burr could not imagine a world where he could ever hate his daughter. He held his silence as Hamilton went on, “Simply know this: this is not a recent development. We have known for quite some time. I think the knowledge of our,” he held up the hand where his thumb had been stroking the back of Laurens' palm, “relationship helped Angie and Theo figure themselves out. They were hurting before, Burr,” there was anguish in Hamilton's voice as he spoke. “They were _hurting,_ and it broke my heart to see it. It was obvious to us that they were in love with each other, but had repressed those feelings, having thought, like you, that they were immoral. We simply helped them come to terms with their identities,” he paused when he ran out of breath. “Remember, Burr, that Theo and Angie are not different people now that you know that they prefer women. They are the same as they were yesterday. Well,” he winced, “not if you consider it from a philosophical viewpoint – or at least Locke's viewpoint – since people change every second of every minute–“

“ _Alexander_ ,” Laurens interrupted in exasperation.

Burr stood up. He fiddled with his cuffs as he, in an effort to avoid Eliza's scrutinizing eyes, looked at Hamilton and Laurens, only for his mind to draw up images of the two in certain compromising positions, which made him flush further and look back at Eliza. “I need to think about this,” he blurted out.

Hamilton nodded. “By all means, Burr. You are welcome to stay here for as long as you need to, or you can return at a later time,” he said. “I only ask that you do not speak of this," he raised both of his hands, still clutching both Eliza and Laurens' hands, "to anyone outside of the three of us, Frances, Philip, Angelica, and Theodosia,” he added, a warning tone in his voice.

Theodosia knew, then. It certainly explained why she and Angelica were so affectionate with each other inside this house.

“I will be seeing you at the Senate,” Burr managed, then fled as fast as dignity would allow him.

* * *

Burr studiously avoided the Hamilton residence over the following three days. Theodosia, for her part, did not return home, leaving Burr to contemplate in all too vivid a detail how she must be spending her nights. This, in turn, led to a complete denial of any kind of a relationship between her and the oldest Hamilton daughter.

Burr made attempts to reflect on the situation objectively, but every time he tried that, he was faced not only with the fact that Theodosia had somehow become an adult without him noticing, but also the fear of what would happen to her, were anyone to find out.

It took this self-imposed exile for Burr to realize that the Hamiltons had somehow wedged themselves into his life without his permission. He found that he missed the energetic dinners with eleven other people; he missed Philip's noisiness; he even missed Hamilton's readiness to argue with Burr on every topic imaginable until exhaustion.

In compliance with his earlier promise, Hamilton made no attempts to reach out to Burr, giving him time to think. This new calmness unsettled Burr; ever since Hamilton had suggested that he and Burr run for office as a ticket, Hamilton had been talking to him on a daily basis, sometimes even seeking him out at home when they did not chance upon one another while going on about their business. To suddenly find a Hamilton-shaped hole in his life was unnerving.

Burr had to make the first move if he wanted to talk to Hamilton – he needed to prove that he had contemplated Eliza's words. Unfortunately, that was easier said than done.

Madison had stopped by his office two days after Burr's talk with Hamilton, Eliza, and Laurens. Although the Senate was in recess, Burr had taken to hiding in his senatorial office; his house reminded him, with its emptiness, of the choice he had to make – his faith or his daughter.

Madison looked equally worn-out as Burr, though surely for other reasons. Burr briefly wondered whether Madison's reasons were tall, red-headed, hazel-eyed, and played the violin. It would be just typical of Hamilton _and_ Jefferson to give their friends headaches at the very same time.

Burr's brain came to a scratching halt. He went back and reviewed his last thought. Since when had he begun considering Hamilton a friend…?

Madison looked down at Burr. He grimaced commiseratively. “Hamilton?” he guessed.

Burr looked at him, tiredness evident in his eyes. “Hamilton,” he confirmed. “Jefferson?” he asked, because, well, what were the chances?

Madison hummed. “Jefferson,” he took a seat in the chair across from Burr's, but did not say anything else.

Maybe it was because of his lack of sleep, but Burr found the whole situation absurdly amusing – here they were, two politically powerful men in their own rights, whining about their ridiculously stubborn friends who would not recognize the status quo if it came at them with a gun.

“Guns,” he murmured quietly.

“Pardon me?” Madison looked up from where he had been tracing a pattern in the wood of Burr's desk.

Burr waved him off. “I was simply thinking– I know not what I was thinking.”

“That our problems would be easily solved with a gun?” Madison resumed. “I admit that the thought had occurred to me, but I am not quite that desperate yet.”

“Yet?” Burr smiled, and yes, it was definitely the exhaustion talking.

“Besides, I fear for the country, should its elected officials begin to engage in duels,” Madison added. “Especially over such a petty thing as being an annoyance, even if Hamilton _does_ take being vexatious to a whole new level.”

Burr sighed. “I wish my problems could have been solved as easily as shooting Hamilton. Maybe I could shoot Laurens instead,” he contemplated absentmindedly. “That _would_ make my life considerably easier.”

Madison winced. “I would not do that if I were in your position,” he advised softly. “Hamilton and Laurens have a… unique relationship,” he said awkwardly.

Burr furrowed his brows. “You know about them?”

Madison did not speak for so long a moment that Burr lost hope that he would ever receive a reply. “I do,” he said eventually, “and so does Thomas.”

“How?”

“Three years ago, Thomas found a letter to John Laurens while searching Hamilton's office for any incriminating material that might be used against him. He convinced me to confront Hamilton in an attempt to dissuade him from pursuing politics.”

“You tried to blackmail Hamilton,” Burr said slowly, a small smile on his lips. “You _do_ realize that this is the man who would rather reveal every last secret he has, thus causing his own downfall, than let others hold anything above him?”

“In retrospect, it was not our best move,” Madison admitted with a wince. “In any case, Hamilton had an adequate explanation for the contents of the letter, and he could outwrite us if it came down to whose word should be trusted more, so we never pursued the charges. Still, that did not dissuade me from the belief that Hamilton was engaging in pederasty and has been for quite some time, and I suspect that it did not dissuade Thomas either.”

Burr frowned. “Then why have you not–?” he could not finish the sentence.

Madison shrugged. “Because I realized that, should we try to find other evidence against him, we would lose no matter what. If the evidence did not stand up in court, we would be deemed liars, never to be trusted again. If it did, it would, in addition to costing Hamilton and Laurens their lives and their families their honour, create an image of two Virginians who were so desperate for power that they were willing to go any length to find incriminating evidence against their rivals. That is not a legacy I want to leave behind,” he said honestly. Burr waited, knowing from years of experience that the pause meant that Madison had more to say. “Forbye, I am not the most well-suited person to accuse a person of being attracted to the wrong people.”

Burr observed Madison with new suspicion. “What are you–?” he asked carefully. He has had enough revelations over the past few days; Madison did not need to add yet another one.

Madison saw through him. His eyes widened. “I assure you, whatever conclusion you have drawn is erroneous,” he hurried to assure him. “I only mean that–“ he let out a long breath. “I don't find myself drawn to anyone. I have never desired physical intimacy of the kind you are referring to.”

“You are _married_ , Madison,” Burr felt the need to point out. “You have a wife. Surely you have–?”

One of these days, he was going to complete one of his questions. It did not look like today was going to be _it_.

Madison shook his head, looking down again at the wood. “We do not – _I_ do not – require, nor do I want, the physical aspect of a relationship,” he murmured, clearly feeling as uncomfortable with the subject as Burr was. Then again, Madison did initiate it. “Dolley has been very understanding.”

Burr's thoughts strayed to Dolley Madison, the charming, endlessly polite lady with the wit to match Abigail Adams. He briefly wondered whether she was like her husband – apparently above such petty necessities as sex – or if she found release some other way. He decided that it was really none of his business. The last time he questioned a relationship, it turned his world upside down and separated him from his daughter.

“I see,” Burr said evenly.

A clock chimed on the wall behind Burr. Madison winced as he took a look at it. He stood up. “Well, this has been a pleasure, but I am afraid that I have some errands that need tending to,” he said diplomatically. “Let us never do this again.”

“Let us hope that we never have to do this again,” Burr corrected.

“Senator,” Madison tipped his hat.

“Congressman,” Burr returned the gesture. “Good luck with Jefferson.”

"Likewise."

* * *

On the fourth day, Burr's self-imposed exile was interrupted by the person Burr had least expected to see: Frances Laurens. He had found her knocking on his door at seven in the morning, a put-upon expression on her face as he opened the door.

“May I come in?” the woman of two and twenty years asked, her voice indicating that Burr better let her in _or else._

“By all means, Miss Laurens,” Burr backed away, inviting her inside with a gesture.

“I will be frank with you, Senator,” Frances spoke once Burr closed the door. “You need to reconcile whatever differences you have with your daughter and Angie.”

Burr quirked an eyebrow. “Really?” he asked in a neutral voice. “Why, pray tell do I 'need' to do that?”

“Apart from the fact that Theo is your daughter and that it is clear that you miss her,” Frances said matter-of-factly, “it is creating an unpleasant atmosphere in the house. Theo is walking on toes around everyone, looking like the picture of misery. Even Angie fails to cheer her up, a phenomenon I have hitherto never encountered. Not to mention Mr Hamilton, who threw himself into work in order not to have to deal with this – work which, I need not remind you, _is non-existent_ , seeing as the Senate is in recess, which has led to Mr Hamilton deliberately picking fights with everyone in his vicinity. My father hasn't been a great deal of help in that aspect, either,” she rolled her eyes. “They are far too similar for their own good.”

“What makes you believe that reconciling my differences, as it were, with my daughter would rectify this?”

“Because the reason they are agitated is because you have rejected Theo's relationship with Angie. This anxiety is cutting into my study time. _I cannot have that_ ,” she said in a voice that one might use to announce a natural catastrophe – fitting, Burr supposed, since Hamilton was often compared with a hurricane.

“I will see what I can do,” Burr responded, “but I cannot promise anything. This– it goes against everything I have grown up believing,” he admitted.

Frances' expression softened. “As much as we might love our relatives, they are not infallible,” she said quietly. “You have to ask yourself whether keeping to outdated principles set forth by reticent conservatives is worth losing your daughter over.”

She put her hand on the door handle, then hesitated. “For what it's worth,” she said, “I understand what you are going through. Good day to you, senator.”

* * *

Burr steeled himself, then raised a hand to the door. He knocked twice. He could have used the key in his pocket, but knocking was something he _needed_ to do this time. He needed to be invited, because anything else would be equivalent to forcing himself in. Considering the topic he had come to discuss, that was not a possibility.

Eliza opened the door, inviting him in. “She's in the backyard,” she offered.

Burr inclined his head. “Thank you.”

Eliza smiled at Burr, her expression too perceptive for comfort. “You are welcome.”

With that, she left him alone to summon every last bit of courage he would need for this confrontation. Burr closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he was already heading towards the door leading to the backyard.

Theodosia and Angelica sat together on a blanket, laughing over something one of them had said, Theodosia's back to the door. When Angelica spotted him, her laughter ceased. Theodosia looked behind her to see who had entered. When she recognized Burr, she stood up.

Angelica also stood up, taking up a position beside Theo in case her friend needed her support. Theodosia glanced back at her. She grabbed Angelica's hand, squeezing it in gratitude.

Burr approached the two girls. “Theodosia,” he said quietly, feeling a lump form in his throat.

Theodosia did not smile. “Father,” she said defiantly.

When it became obvious that Theodosia was not going to say anything else, Burr cleared his throat. Theodosia flinched imperceptibly. “'What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder',” Burr quoted, the lump in his throat swelling with every word.

The expression on Angelica's face slowly changed into a smile, but Theodosia frowned, asking for clarification.

“I have come to realize something important,” Burr said shakily; Frances' words had forced Burr to truly think things through, and he had come to some startling conclusions. “You are my daughter, and I love you more than anything in my life. Had I been facing a choice between keeping you in my life and staying true to God's message, I would have chosen you every time. However, I realized that I did not have to make that decision,” he allowed himself to smile. “God Himself had destined you for each other. He has created you just as you are, and he must have had a plan in doing so. If that is the case, who am I to question the Lord's will?”

Theodosia stared at him as she processed the words. Then, without warning, Burr found himself with an armful of Theodosia, who embraced him as though she was drowning and he was her last salvation.

Burr did not realize, up until then, quite how much he had missed his daughter's presence. He basked in her presence, enjoying the fact that she was _there_ , that she was okay, because, if this truly was the life she wanted to live, that wasn't a guarantee.

For now, however, life was okay.

Still, there was one thing that bothered him. “Seriously, though? A _Hamilton_? I thought that you had better taste than that.”

Theo snickered.

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? Good? Bad? In-character? Awkward?


End file.
